Separated
by MusicandSquirrels
Summary: AU- Wanda and Pietro were put in separate orphanages after the tragic death of their parents. Wanda was adopted and raised in America with a man who convinced her that her brother was dead. Pietro seeks to reunite himself with his sister and reform their family.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I have never written in an AU before, but this one wouldn't get out of my head.**

Prologue

Outside the apartment building, a large squadron had appeared, made up of sobbing survivors, concerned neighbors, and a rescue team that was nearly ready for action.

Inside, Pietro was curled around his younger twin sister, Wanda, protectively. She held in a scream, terrified that any sound should shake the shell and cause it to go off, killing them instantly. She could feel her brother shaking, though (or maybe it was her own shaking). From outside, they could hear sirens and the sound of a loudspeaker that had been repeating the same message over and over for the past five minutes: "Remain where you are, we are sending in a rescue squad. If anyone is alive, we will have you out in just a moment."

After a moment passed and then another moment, Wanda dared to open her mouth and speak to her brother in a whisper. "Pietro?"

"Sister?" He spoke in a lower whisper.

"Will it go off?"

"I don't know. Don't move." As if to ensure her stillness, he wrapped his arms tighter around her.

"I won't, but Pietro…" Her voice betrayed her own shakiness. "What about Mom and Dad?"

Pietro shuddered against her, though she could feel that he was trying not to. "I don't think they made it, Wanda."

She knew this was the truth, but she still felt the sting when the words were whispered out loud. She held back a sob, still worried that a sound too loud would set the shell off.

After a while, the announcement stopped and the sound of shifting rubble could be heard all around. Every stone that was moved caused the twins to inhale deeply with fear. Every time there was a shift in the ground, they could have sworn that they were about to join their parents in death. But after one agonizingly long day, they allowed themselves to hope, just a little, that maybe this would not be how they died.

…

Halfway through the first night, Wanda gently shoved Pietro awake with her free elbow. "Pietro?" She still spoke quietly.

"Huh, what?"

For a moment, she felt bad for waking him up to this cruel reality, but she didn't understand that he could even sleep at all. "If we get out, they'll put us in different orphanages. Boys and girls can't be together."

"I know."

"So what will we do?"

"I've been thinking about that. Give me three weeks, I'll get out and come find you."

"What if you can't get out?"

"Then you'll have to come get me. But it will be better if you don't try to get out right away. Give it time so they don't suspect you."

The orphanages in Sokovia were known well for the amount of children that ran away from them. In the recent few years, security had been enforced in them and it had become almost impossible to escape, though there had been stories and rumors of a few determined individuals who managed to get away.

"Do you promise to not leave me alone?" Wanda turned her head to look directly into her brother's eyes.

"I will never leave you alone. I promise to come find you." His eyes met her gaze knowing that the promise was for himself just as much as it was for his younger sibling. He was her older brother after all, even if it was only by twelve minutes, and it was his job to protect her and take care of her, especially now that their parents were gone.

…

What felt like years later, but was really only two days, a final piece of rubble was removed and the bed was lifted off of the twins by a large group of rescue workers. Once the bed had been moved, the trembling children were lifted up and moved away from the shell that had decided not to go off after all.

The Maximoff twins were only given a moment, though, before they were pulled away from each other and, to their horror, placed in separate cars and driven off in different directions.

"Pietro!" Wanda called as she realized the terrifying truth of what was happening. "He is my brother! I must be with him!"

A woman with a kind, but tired looking face turned around to face the little girl in the back seat. "You are orphans now. You must go to the orphanage and the boys and girls cannot be together. I know it is hard, but it will be for the best." She forced a smile to try to comfort Wanda.

"But I cannot be without him. He is all I have."

"Perhaps you will be adopted together." The woman had already turned back around to face the road. "It really is better this way." She repeated.

…

Once he realized what was going on, and that he and his sister were being separated far sooner than he though, Pietro took his first chance to get away. He jumped out of the car as soon as the car made its first stop to let another car pass in a different direction. But the men who had placed him in the car and sat in the passenger and driver's seats had seen this behavior many times before and they were ready for him.

"We need back-up on the boy!" One of the men barked into a walkie talkie that connected him to other members of the rescue squad.

Though Pietro had been the fastest boy in his class, he was not fast enough to elude the four men that gave chase almost immediately after he had achieved his freedom. They caught him up and began to carry him back to the waiting car.

"Wanda!" He called as though she could hear him. He struggled and kicked and even managed to bite one of the men that had a solid grasp on him. It was no good, the men were used to grief stricken and violent orphans. It was all to common in Sokovia.

Once he had been returned to the car, he was placed in the backseat, in-between two men this time who squished his arms down with their large bodies. A kinder one took pity on him. "Maybe you will both be adopted and you will see her again. I know it's hard, but this is what is for the best. She will be fine."

"You do not understand, she is my twin. We must be together." Pietro wriggled uselessly.

"We will inform the adoption agencies of this, but we cannot guarantee anything. Do not worry. Your sister will be fine."

…

The car ride seemed to take forever. They traveled down so many twisting roads and made made so many turns that Wanda wasn't able to keep track of where they had gone or even how far from her destroyed home they were. The woman in the front seat often turned around to offer condolences and check on the girl in the backseat.

Wanda didn't want to cry, but it was impossible to keep the tears from silently streaming down her face. She had lost her home, her parents, and she was so afraid that she might loose her brother now, too. Then she would have lost everything she had ever had.

They finally arrived at a large building that seemed to stand on its own. It was so far away from the city where the twins had lived, that it had no other buildings in sight. A worn sign on the front proclaimed that it was the "Sokovian Girl's Orphanage." Creative names were not wasted on such a hopeless institution. It was not quite run-down, but it had a definite look of over-use about it. The paint had long ago chipped off in many places and the front porch had a significant hole in its middle that had never been fixed. But all in all, it was not the horrific desolate place that Wanda had always imagined it must be.

The young girl's door was opened by a new person and she was guided out by the woman who had sat in the passenger seat. She had the compassion to hold Wanda's hand and give it a comforting squeeze. A middle-aged man smiled sympathetically at her as he shut her door and led the two and the driver into the building.

The door to the orphanage slammed shut with a sort of finality that scared Wanda. She gripped the woman's hand tighter. Her dirty face had not been cleaned since she and her brother had dove under the bed and the ruble and ash that covered her face betrayed her tears which had left tracks in the dirt. When this was combined with her nearly completely ruined dress, her bare feet, and her tight grip on the woman's hand she made quite a pitiful picture.

"Mrs. Whischult!" The man called out. "Miss Wanda Maximoff has arrived!"

A woman about the same age as the man shuffled out from the back of the house. She was tall and well-built with a face that had seen too much tragedy. "So she made it out after all, did she?" She gave Wanda a small smile. "We are all glad that you survived, Wanda, we were waiting with much worry to see if you and your brother would be freed."

She reached for a camera that sat on a table by the door. "We'll need to take your picture for the website." Without giving Wanda a chance to protest or make herself look any better, the woman snapped the picture. "There we go. Now we can take her from here Ana. Thank you for bringing her."

The woman who had been holding Wanda's hand, Ana, gave one final squeeze and let her fingers loose. She knelt down next to the little girl. "It was nice to meet you, Wanda. Good luck." And just as she had arrived, she and her driver were instantly gone. And Wanda felt the feelings of being lost and alone fall down upon her with completeness. She was tempted to run after Ana, but her brother had told her not to make trouble and she knew that grabbing onto Ana's knee like she wanted to would not help her situation at all.

"Now then, Miss Maximoff, let's get you some new clothes. I am afraid we do not have much to spare, but we will take care of you as much as we can until we can find you a new home. Don't worry, a little girl like you will be adopted in an instant." As she walked ahead waiting for Wanda to follow she muttered under her breath. "All the Americans are looking to take in a tragedy like you."

…

Pietro was not so quiet and the boy's orphanage was not so quaint and run-down as the home his sister was taken to. The men who had held him in the back seat took a tight grip on him and walked him into the newer looking building. After many attempted escapes, a generous donor gave money to rebuild the boy's orphanage located in the center of the city. It had high walls and radiated hopelessness for any boy that was taken into its hold.

Pietro struggled, but the men holding him were much stronger and he had no hope of escape. When two men greeted them at the door, he was handed off to them. "Careful with this one. He's a runner." And just like that, the men walked away and Pietro was taken inside by the two new men.

"We know your type. You will settle down after you realize that there is nowhere to go." One of the men said with unexpected gentleness. "I heard about you and your sister. You will probably want to be with her, but you have to know that she will probably be adopted and you will probably stay here and you just have to let her go. She will be happier when she can put all of this behind her. For the sake of your sister, let her go."

Pietro took in his words like a blow to the chest. "She will not be happy if we are not together. She is not just my sister she is my twin. We have to be together!" He struggled again, but it was still useless.

The man who had spoken sighed and said nothing more before leading Pietro further into the orphanage to his room.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

"Senator Walters, I'm sorry, can I bother you?" The senator's campaign manager stepped into his office. He looked up from his computer.

"I know." He sighed. "My campaign numbers are way down. We were doing so well. What happened?" He brought his fist down on the desk in frustration.

"We aren't completely sure, but we believe it is due to Mr. Johnson's last major campaign ad. It's leading the people to think about him as a family man."

Senator Walters nodded thoughtfully. His campaign for president had begun months ago and his popularity had been climbing very rapidly until his biggest competitor, Mr. Johnson had joined the race. Mr. Johnson was what the people viewed as the "classic American man." He had a wife, two daughters, and a young son. He was charismatic and made huge points of making time for his family while running. His latest ad had not directly come out and spoken of Senator Walter's state as a single man with no family of his own, but it did point the viewer to imply that meaning well enough.

"I can't combat that." The senator sighed with frustration. "What can I do, shoot an ad claiming that not having a family frees up my time to fulfill my duties. You and I both know that's true, but if I come out and say I don't have time for a girlfriend or a family, I'll be called an unfriendly workaholic. There is no solution."

"I've been looking a lot at the public polls this morning and a lot of people say you are too aloof and alone. It makes you seem heartless." She paused before bringing up the main idea that she had come to share. "I was speaking with Jace and Stacy Larison this morning."

"The interns that married fresh out of high school. What do they know?"

"They're good workers and they're giving us a fresh perspective of the younger generation. They said that maybe you don't have to commit to a whole family, but seeing you with a child or in a fatherly position might warm the public to you. Would you consider adoption?"

He gave her an incredulous stare. "What am I, Daddy Warbucks?" He scoffed. "I'm not taking in some unfortunate orphan just for my campaign. And what am I supposed to do when the campaign is over? You can't return an orphan."

"I know it seems ridiculous. But I've been doing a lot of thinking about this. This is the main reason people aren't going to vote for you. Your single family-less state could completely kill your campaign. You might not even have a chance without a child."

"That's ridiculous!"

"The public is ridiculous. They don't want a man that can run the country. They want a man that appeals to their emotions. They need to feel good about you. Seeing you as a father could do that."

"I don't want a child!" He said with conviction, but less so than his previous statements.

"You have the money to take care of the kid. Hire a nanny, send them to a nice school, and you only have to give a little bit of care and have them appear in campaign ads. It's not that big of a commitment." His campaign manager scoffed. If anyone could be accused of having a cold heart, it should have been her, not him.

Senator Walters pulled from the bottom of his excuse jar. "What about paperwork and the process? I don't have time for all of this and by the time I actually get a child, the election will be over. There's no point."

"I've already figured that out, too. Jace and Stacy said that they had looked into adoption themselves and were discouraged by the process until they found out about Sokovia."

"S-what now?"

"Sokovia, it's a small country in Europe that has been under onslaught for a while now. The bombings there have created more orphans than they know what to do with and they ship the kids out as soon as they find someone even moderately interested. Their legal system isn't very strict about getting children out." She sat down in the chair across from his desk and slid her finger to a link on a tablet for him. "Take your pick."

An adoption website in poorly translated English appeared before Walters and he was overwhelmed with an onslaught of little faces of unhappy children. "You have got to be kidding me." He pushed the tablet back at her.

"How much do you want to win this election?"

He hesitated and didn't move for a long time. Finally, he reached back up and pulled the tablet closer to himself. "No babies. We want someone who's still young, but also past those ridiculous childish stages."

"Girl or boy?" She smiled almost deviously.

"Girl, I have no time for a boy. I was a boy and I can say from experience that they're far too much trouble."

"The more pitiful the better, I think." She pulled the tablet back and made some search adjustments. "Here, what about this one?"

'Wanda Maximoff' The screen read '10; parents killed in July bombing; quiet; shy' The picture of a young, tiny girl accompanied this poor description. She had a tattered dress and her hair was tangled. Her face was lined with tear tracks that went through the dirt and ash that had built up there. Her hand clutched tightly to another who could not be fully seen in the picture.

Senator Walters felt a pang of guilt and sadness. This girl looked awful and beaten down by the world. Was it fair for him to take her in only for a campaign?

His campaign manager interrupted his thoughts. "Any life you can give her has to be better than that. The people will love you. We can even use this picture, she looks awful."

"What do we do now then?" He asked her.

She smiled mischievously. "I've already booked our flight to Sokovia."


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

There were bars on his window and the door to his room was locked at night. The men and women who saw to his studies and care acted friendly, but the presence of the guards could never be forgotten and every time Pietro tried to run, he found he couldn't get very far before he was caught again.

Though the orphanage had crushed the spirits of many a spirited boy before him, Pietro could not be discouraged. He had one thing that the other boys in the orphanage didn't have anymore: a family. He kept Wanda in his mind every day and thought about her alone and probably scared and he was determined to reunite himself with her, to reunite himself with his family.

Every night, when he was sure that no one was watching, he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a small picture that he had managed to grab from the rubble after they had been freed:

It had been a devastatingly hot day, but the day had been planned long ago and the Maximoffs weren't the kind of family to be stopped by a little bit of heat. Their mother had packed a picnic basket full of their favorite food that she and Wanda had been preparing for the past two days. Their father carried the basket and Pietro had trailed behind him with a large blanket. After they had traveled only a few feet from the apartment, Wanda had run back to get the camera, reminding them that every photo opportunity had to be taken.

They had to walk very far to get out of the city and they were sweaty and tired when they finally reached the small park on the outskirts of Sokovia. They sat down and ate lunch. All the while, they laughed and enjoyed each other's company, the perfect little family. After a while, Wanda and Pietro got up and played a game of hide and seek tag around the park, hiding behind trees and rocks. Their parents watched with smiles.

After the twins had tired out, they lay on the blanket next to their parents and watched the clouds chase after one another in the sky. A couple passed by and greeted them, complimenting Wanda's beauty and Pietro's already strong young body.

In the middle of the conversation, Wanda jumped up and grabbed the camera. "Please take our picture." She asked the couple. They kindly agreed.

The family arranged themselves on the picnic blanket. Their father held Wanda in his lap and wrapped his arm around his wife. Pietro leaned in next to his mother and they all smiled.

It was a good picture, the best one the family had. They had kept it framed on the dresser by the dining room table so that they could all remember the perfect day that they had spent together. Pietro had been able to see the smashed frame from his spot under the bed next to his sister. The whole time he had been wondering if he would live or not, he looked at the picture of his family, smiling at him. He was the man of the family now. It was his job to bring his family back together, what was left of it.

Whenever he felt that he might loose hope and give up, letting himself fall into the drudgery and sadness that made up the air of the orphanage, he looked at the little picture and remembered that he still had something to fight for.

The other boys made fun of him after he made his third attempt to escape. In truth, they envied his passion, something that had died in them long ago. If anyone was going to get free of the orphanage, it would be Pietro.

…

After a week had passed, Wanda had not yet given up hope on her brother. Many of the girls there had seemed to settle into life at the orphanage. There were chores to be done and studies to be learned and not much time in the day to do anything else. But late at night, when the girls were left alone with their thoughts, they all remembered suddenly what they had lost and the parents that were now missing and the quiet tears could be heard ringing through the halls hauntingly.

It was the cries that made Wanda feel antsy and they and her brother were the reason that she couldn't seem to settle down.

She wanted to leave so much. She wanted to be with Pietro again and create some semblance of the family that had been so terribly broken. She couldn't do that along. She needed to be with Pietro. It was unnatural for them to not be together.

She didn't talk much to the other girls around her and she never participated verbally in studies. She really had nothing to say to anyone here. The only talking she wanted to do was with her brother.

Because she was quiet and small, she was mostly forgotten by everyone there entirely. For this reason, she was shocked when Mrs. Whischult came to the door of the classroom one day and called Wanda out, telling her that someone was here that would like to meet her.

Wanda was hesitant, but she stood up and followed Mrs. Whischult down the hallway to a small room that she had never noticed before because the door had always been closed. It had a large couch and some chairs surrounding it. It was newer-looking and nicer than the other rooms in the house, as though it had been the beginning of renovations that hadn't quite made it past the door.

Two strangers sat in the room on the couch. One was a tall and handsome middle-aged man wearing an expensive looking suit and smiling kindly ( _a little too kindly,_ Wanda thought) at the girl as she approached. The other was a woman, also tall, but very stern-looking in a pants suit. She too smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes in the same way that it had with the man's smile.

"Wanda, this is Mr. Walters and his friend Ms. Smyth. Mr. Walters saw you on our website and is interested in taking you home."

Wanda tensed up. She hadn't even considered the fact that she might be adopted. She was still and silent for an extremely long period of time, thoughts and fears rushing through her head.

Finally, Mrs. Whischult cleared her throat to end the silence. "Wouldn't that make you happy, Wanda? You wouldn't have to stay here any more and he would take you back to his big house in America. You could have a family again."

"But I already have a family." Wanda said quietly.

Mrs. Whischult knelt down to face Wanda directly. "Wanda, your parents died when the bomb hit your apartment. I am sorry. But you can start a new family. Mr. Walters came all the way here. Will you at least talk to him?"

Wanda nodded and looked up at Senator Walters. "I already have a family Mr. Walters." She sounded louder and far more confidant than she had since she had arrived. "My twin brother, Pietro, is at a different orphanage."

Senator Walters shook his head. He hadn't bargained for a twin. He didn't need another kid running around his house. "Must she be adopted with her brother?"

"No, no, do not worry about the brother." Mrs. Whischult spoke quickly, standing up once more. She looked back down at Wanda. "Your brother will be fine, Wanda."

"I cannot go without Pietro." Wanda said defiantly.

Ms. Smyth leaned toward Senator Walters and whispered in his ear. "No other girls in this orphanage will be the right age. None of them have stories as tragic as this one. You need her. I have a plan to deal with the brother. We can talk more later. Just focus on getting the girl."

"Wanda," Senator Walters finally looked directly at the girl who stood in the center of the room. "We can talk more about your brother later. Right now, I am worried about you. Would you like to come home to America with me. I have a nice house and good food and you will be much happier there with me. I can be your father. We can be a family." His smile was genuinely warm. He genuinely felt sorry for the small girl that stood defiantly before him, but his campaign had to come first. He couldn't possibly take her brother with her.

Wanda calculated for a moment before responding. "I would like that very much, Mr. Walters, but not without Pietro. I will not go without him."

Ms. Smyth jumped in to aid the situation. "How about we take you with us now, Wanda, and we'll come for your brother later. You surely can wait a little while longer for him." It was an outright lie, but Ms. Smyth had no problem with lying to a small child.

Wanda nodded slowly. She knew the fake smile that Ms. Smyth gave her, but a gentle smile from Mr. Walters convinced her that just maybe it would be okay if she went back to America with him. "I have never been to America before. As long as Pietro comes, too. I will go with you and we can be your children." She felt as though she was brokering a deal for herself and her brother and she wondered if her parents would be proud of her or ashamed of how quickly she accepted a new father.

Mrs. Whischult clapped her hands together enthusiastically. She had known that Wanda would be out of Sokovia fast, but she had not expected such quick success. "Lovely! Mr. Walters, if you would like, we could begin the paperwork today and Wanda could go home with you tomorrow."

Senator Walters tried to hide the instant wave of fear that caught him up at how fast he was going to become a father when he had had no such plans even a week ago. He forced a smile and nodded. It was for the campaign and any life that he could offer this girl would be better than the Sokovia orphanage. "I can't wait."


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Ms. Smyth had dropped her things off in her hotel room and instantly come over to Walters' room to discuss the situation. When he opened the door, the look on his face was one of almost sheer terror.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." He said as she stepped past him and took a seat on the bed. "What the hell am I thinking?"

"Before you freak out on me, let me talk." She gave him a stern look. "First off, you've already signed the adoption papers, so congratulations, you're a father."

She said this dryly at though it were some joke. _It's no joke for Wanda_ he thought. "Thank you." He responded with the same dry tone.

"Obviously, I wasn't counting on her to have a twin brother, but that can be amended easily."

"I can't adopt him, too. It's too much. I hardly think I can handle this one. God, I'm not ready to be a father. What am I doing?"

"Stop, she's a ten-year-old girl. You're going to be fine. And as for the twin, from now on, he's dead to us."

Walters looked up with horror on his face. "We are not killing a child. You've already taken this too far."

"What kind of person do you think I am? We're not killing a little boy for your campaign. He doesn't need to be dead for us to tell Wanda that he died in the bombing."

"But he didn't. Mrs. Whischult told us he was still alive and at a different orphanage."

"Think about it, Dave. She's already been through a lot of crap. Her parents were destroyed when her apartment was bombed. If we convince her that her brother living was all part of her imagination and that she only thinks he survived the bombing, she'll eventually believe us. You'll have to set her up with a child psychologist when we get back to the states anyway."

"You want to brainwash a little girl to believe that she is the only survivor in her family?"

"It's better this way. She needs to leave everything behind and start all over in America. Once she leaves Sokovia, it will be easier to convince her that her brother died and then she can come to see you as her only family and she won't resent you for leaving her brother here." Smyth gave him one of her triumphant smiles and he wondered why he had hired her as his campaign manager. She was sadistic and crazy. _But she always wins._ He thought to himself. Maybe she was right. But everything about it seemed wrong. He still had enough of a conscience to know that using an orphan girl to get what he wanted was massively wrong especially when the plan involved brainwashing her to believe that her entire family was dead when her brother was still alive. But he had already given so much to his campaign and she could be happy with him, happier than she would be growing up in an impoverished orphanage. "Fine. I think you're insane and I can't believe I'm agreeing, but fine."

Smyth nodded back at him and stood up. "Good. I'm going back to my room. Try to get some rest. We have a long flight back tomorrow and you'll have to be ready to spend some quality time with your new daughter. Everything will be okay. When she asks about her brother, just let me do the talking. Just remember, once we get her out of the orphanage, we have to tell everyone who asks about her family that they're all dead. Everybody and their mother has to think that her brother is dead for this to work." She stepped out of the room and let the door fall shut behind her.

Senator Walters sat down where she had been and buried his face in his hands as soon as she had gone. "What am I doing?" He said out loud. "What on earth am I doing?"

Wanda had been told not to worry about finishing in class, but to hurry along and pack her things and get ready. She wasn't totally sure why this was a priority. The only things she had were the clothes the orphanage had given her and the tattered dress that she had shoved under her mattress because she couldn't bring herself to part with it.

Mrs. Whischult had given her a small bag and Wanda had filled it with these things. The whole process took about ten minutes and Wanda was left sitting alone on her bed afterwards. All the other girls were still in class.

She felt frantic. She didn't know whether to be happy that she was getting adopted and Pietro would be adopted too, or worried about Pietro. She had trusted Mr. Walters, but the smile on the woman's face had concerned her. Something felt wrong and panic was rising inside her, a panic that she and her brother might really be separated, not just by different orphanages, but by an entire country.

When this panic had risen inside her chest entirely, she jumped up and ran out of the room. She flew down the stairs, running into no one and reached for the front door. To her surprise, it was unlocked. She had never tried to open it before, but she had assumed that she and the other girls were locked in.

With a great pull, she pulled the door open and ran outside. She had no idea exactly where she was and she had no idea where Pietro might be, but the adrenaline and frantic fear that had built up inside her caused her to call out.

"Pietro!" She yelled. "Pietro!" She ran faster than she ever had before and called out at the top of her lungs. Tears were running down her face as she cried for the first time since she had arrived at the orphanage. "Pietro!"

The heads of poor orphanages received a bad reputation for being unreasonably cruel. Mrs. Whischult did not fit this stereotype at all. A warmer heart could not be found in all of Sokovia and she cared for each and every one of her girls. She was also determined to see all of her girls leave and be happy somewhere else.

She had been expecting Wanda to snap eventually and when she heard the screaming outside, she knew exactly what was happening. She put down the dishes that she had been cleaning calmly and walked outside.

Wanda was running, but her small legs had not gotten her very far. Mrs. Whischult caught up to Wanda easily and wrapped the girl up in her arms.

Wanda kicked and screamed and fought and called for her brother for a while, but eventually settled wore herself down to sobbing in Mrs. Whischult's arms.

Mrs. Whischult held Wanda tightly and made calming noises until even the sobs died down. When the girl was finally quiet, Mrs. Whischult let her go and sat her down on the ground in front of her.

"Can I tell you a secret, Wanda?"

Wanda sniffed and nodded while taking a shaky breath.

"I am a twin, too."

"You are?"

"Well, I was. But my sister died when I was just a little girl myself. Everyone says that you cannot remember much from before you were five, but I remember my sister very well. How could I forget someone who was such a huge part of me?" Mrs. Whischult looked distant for a moment before continuing. "And I know that you must feel that Pietro is a part of you in the same way." She looked at Wanda for confirmation.

Wanda nodded. "That is why we need to be together, I would rather be an orphan with him than have a father alone."

"Wanda, I know this is not what you want to hear, but Mr. Walters might not adopt your brother. But you can still be happy because you will know that he is well and safe here in Sokovia and you will see him again one day. But what Mr. Walters is offering you is what is best for you and I believe that you can be far happier with him than you can ever be here."

"Not without my brother."

"I know, this is hard, but I would rather know that my sister was alive and never see her again than see her for only one day if it meant she would be dead after that day. The world does not always work perfectly. If it were up to me, you and your brother would be headed on that plane tomorrow and Mr. Walters would become the family that you lost. But the world does not work like that, especially not in Sokovia. Sometimes you just have to take the best you can get."

Wanda nodded her head slightly, though inside she was still screaming. Mr. Walters said that they would talk about her brother later. He had to adopt him, too.

"Mr. Walters will be a good father for you. I can tell. You will see Pietro again, but for now, you are going to have to go with this. Can you do that for me?"

Wanda nodded again, with more confidence this time. _Of course not!_ she screamed inside.

"You are such a good girl. Your parents would be proud of you." Mrs. Whischult drew the small girl back to her in a tight hug. "I promise you that everything will be okay."

 _No, everything will be okay when Pietro and I are together again and my parents could never be proud of me until that happens._ "Okay, thank you Mrs. Whischult."

After only a moment of silence, Mrs. Whischult felt the silent tears on her shoulder, but she said no more. She let Wanda cry herself to sleep and then carried her back into the house and to her bed where she would spend her last night ever at the Sokovian Girl's Orphanage.


	5. Chapter Four

**AN: Many apologies for not updating this sooner. Thanks for still following!**

Chapter Four

Wanda was woken up early, before all the other girls, the next morning by Mrs. Whischult.

"Mr. Walters has an early flight this morning. He and Ms. Smyth are here to pick you up." She looked doubtfully at the other girl's face which was also doubtful. "You're going home, Wanda. Do not look so upset.

Wanda nodded, but didn't change her facial features.

Mrs. Whischult sighed and decided to just send the girl on her way and not press her any more. "before you go, I have something for you, dear."

"Okay," even this did not get the girl to smile.

Mrs. Whischult brought her hands out from behind her back and was holding a dress. It was exactly Wanda's size and looked much nicer than any dress she had now. "Whenever a new girl comes, we make them a dress to go home in. We were not expecting you to leave so early, but I stayed up all night finishing this for you. It is made from a material that is only found in Sokovia. Scraps of it are given to us by the factory."

Wanda reached out tentatively and touched the fabric. "I know." She said very quietly. "My mother worked there."

"You have a new home now, Wanda, but when you wear this dress, I want you to remember that you come from Sokovia." She handed the dress to the girl who still looked slightly shocked.

Wanda held the dress for a moment, examining it, and then, in one rapid motion, threw it down on the bed and jumped up to wrap Mrs. Whischult in a tight hug. "I can never forget. Thank you."

Mrs. Whischult squeezed back tightly. "You are welcome, dear. Now hurry and get dressed. Mr. Walters is waiting."

Wanda quickly discarded her old dress that she had slept in and slipped the new dress over her head. The fabric was soft and reminded her of her mother in so many ways. Mrs. Whischult led her downstairs, carrying her bag. Mr. Walters was standing with Ms. Smyth in the front hall, only a few steps from the door. Ms. Smyth looked cold and Mr. Walters looked incredibly awkward.

"Take good care of our Wanda now." Mrs. Whischult said, handing Mr. Walters Wanda's bag. Then she gave him a stern look that she reserved for all adoption families after they had signed the papers.

"Of course, Ma'am." Mr. Walters switched on his winning politician smile. "She will have a good home with me. Thank you for arranging this."

Mrs. Whischult only nodded in response. She knelt down to Wanda and gave her one last hug. "Be a good girl now, Wanda. You will be happy. I promise."

Mr. Walters held out his hand invitingly and after only a moment of hesitation, Wanda took it. "Can we discuss my brother now?" She asked him

Mr. Walters smartly ignored the question. "You'll love it in America, Wanda. I already have a room ready for you." The wide-eyed look of horror that Wanda gave him told him that this was definitely the wrong answer. "Come on then." He finished awkwardly.

No more words were exchanged as Ms. Smyth opened the door and ushered them to the waiting car. Wanda sat by the window and waved goodbye to Mrs. Whischult as the car pulled away.

…

Pietro also woke up early that morning with a bad feeling in his stomach. He had been told before that twins could often feel if one was in trouble. He immediately expected that something must be wrong with Wanda. He walked over to his locked door and began to bang on it furiously. "Guards! Guards!"

Someone rushed to his door and opened it almost immediately. It was Alex, a beefy man who had been friendly to Pietro since his arrival. He took late night and early morning shifts at the orphanage along with his day job to help pay for the baby his wife was having. All the boys liked him, but none talked to him as much as Pietro did.

Pietro was relieved to see that it was Alex and not one of the crueler men that answered his call. "Alex, my sister is in trouble!"

Alex knew about Wanda. Every one of the guards and teachers in the orphanage had been warned the Pietro would talk about Wanda a lot which he did. Alex sympathized with the boy more than most. He had a sister, too. "What makes you think that?"

"I can feel it. Something is wrong." Pietro's eyes were frantic.

"Wanda is at the girl's orphanage and is just fine. She is being taken care of. You have nothing to worry about." Alex wasn't totally certain that this was the right response.

"I am not only worried. I am certain that something is wrong. I have to help her." Alex gave his a look. "Someone has to help her."

Alex would have thought that Pietro was just trying another escape plan, but the terror in the boy's eyes was too real. "Okay, Pietro," he kept his voice calm, "I will go check on Wanda myself after I get off and let you know that she is okay. Will that make you feel better?"

"When do you get off?" Pietro asked.

"In about an hour."

"That is not soon enough." Pietro liked Alex, but he was ready to shove past him and try to get to Wanda himself if he didn't act soon enough.

Alex sighed. Taking off early would dock his pay and he was already getting paid just enough to keep his future family going. "I will leave now, then, Pietro."

Pietro saw the regret in the man's eyes and knew that he needed the money. "I will make it up to you somehow, Alex. I promise. But Wanda needs help."

Alex only nodded as he walked out of the room and locked the door behind him. Sometimes he deeply regretted his inability to say 'no.' He told another guard that he had to clock out early and drove to the far side of town to retrieve the news for Pietro that Wanda had been adopted.


	6. Chapter Five

The drive was only twenty minutes, but the silence made it seem much longer. The car was a rental and Ms. Smyth drove while Senator Walters sat in the back seat with Wanda.

After about fifteen minutes, Wanda couldn't take the tension of the question building up inside her any longer. She broke the silence. "Will you be adopting my brother soon, then?"

Ms. Smyth instantly took her cue. Now that Mrs. Whischult was gone, she was ready with the response to this exact question. "Wanda, Mrs. Whischult was kind enough to keep up your fantasy for you, but I don't think a little girl should grow up with such a big lie in her head."

Wanda immediately took up the defensive side of the discussion. "What do you mean. I have not lied to anyone."

"Darling, you're lying to yourself." Ms. Smyth's voice was too smooth and perfect and her 'gentle' tone didn't match the cold eyes that Wanda saw looking back at her through the rear view mirror.

"No" Wanda said as gently as she could. "I have not lied about anything and how could I lie to myself?"

"Sometimes the truth hurts too much to take, Wanda." Ms. Smyth glanced back. "I'm so sorry, but you cannot continue to tell yourself that your brother is alive. He died with your parents when the bomb went off. You are the only one that made it out alive."

Mr. Walters sat stiff in the back seat, uncomfortable and unable to look at Wanda.

Wanda did not answer at first. She sat silently for a while so that she could fully take in what Ms. Smyth was telling her and try to make sense of it. She couldn't. There was no logical reason why Ms. Smyth would tell her that her brother was really dead. It made no sense at all to Wanda, but she had decided quite a while ago that she didn't like Ms. Smyth, so she turned to Mr. Walters to see what his take on the matter was. "Why would she say that?" She asked him.

Mr. Walters tensed and then felt his inner politician kicking in. He hated lying, but more and more lately, lying seemed to be his only option. "Wanda, you've had a very difficult time. Sometimes when a memory hurts too much, we block it out and create a new one that doesn't hurt so much. I think that it's too hard for you to believe that your brother died right now, so you've created a story in your head. In that story, he lived. I'm so sorry, Wanda, I really am, but I can help you get through this. It will help you to leave Sokovia and start over." He stopped and looked directly at her. The look of confusion and pain in her eyes turned off his rehearsed speech. He reached over to grab her hand. "I'm here for you, Wanda. I promise."

It was still the wrong answer, but it was closer to what Wanda needed to hear. She clung to Mr. Walters' hand for the rest of the car ride.

Ms. Smyth was wise enough to remain silent as well. She had accomplished her goal of planting her lie in the girl's head where it would sit and fester until she had no choice but to consider it. _Repetition is key._ Ms. Smyth told herself. _The more people who tell her that her brother is dead, the more she will believe._

Ms. Smyth pulled the car into the airport drive-up and handed the keys to a waiting valet who promised that the car would be returned to the rental company. She took her small bag from the trunk and watched Senator Walters do the same. He also picked up Wanda's bag and slung it over his shoulder. Once he had done this, he took her hand once more. She had been standing waiting for them on the sidewalk.

"Let's be gone then. I am ready to be home." Ms. Smyth sniffed distastefully making it evident that the country did not appeal to her.

The three made an awkward group. They might have formed a small family- mother, father, and child- if they did not look so wrong together. Ms. Smyth walked too quickly ahead with her nose in the air. Mr. Walters looked everywhere but at Wanda even though he held her hand and Wanda stood too far from him. Though their hands touched, her arm was pulled too far to the side and she had no expression on her face.

Wanda had never been so unsure of how to feel. Emotions rumbled inside her and she was sure she would go hysterical if she let any one of them out. She felt wrong in so many ways. The sadness from her parents' death still rolled around her in waves and was combined with confusion and longing for her brother, fear for her current situation, a sense of awe that she couldn't help over the airport, and a large gaping emptiness in her heart for Sokovia and everything that it meant to her. Her home, her family- all were being left behind. She settled on bottling this all up and leaving her face blank. There was no point in letting any of it out now.

They went through security fairly quickly, even with Wanda's lack of passport. The guards there accepted the few pages from the orphanage and Mr. Walters had already set up the rest in America while he was on the flight over.

The quickness in security gave them extra time before the plane left. They sat down in the terminal and after a while, Mr. Walters felt his stomach grumble. He had woken up too early for the hotel breakfast and had merely grabbed a cup of coffee before heading to the orphanage that morning.

"Did you eat this morning, Wanda?" He looked down at the girl who was sitting in between him and Ms. Smyth.

Wanda had been swinging her legs and staring at the floor. She was so wrapped up in her own mind, she jumped a little when Mr. Walters addressed her. "No"

"Are you hungry?"

"No" She still didn't look up.

"Would you eat anyway?" He didn't know what the procedure was with children who didn't eat. He assumed that the appropriate parental response was to make her eat at least a little.

"If you want me to." Still she didn't look up. Her legs continued to swing and she stared at them.

"Why don't you come with me to find some food?" He stood up and reached his hand out as an offering.

"I can stay here with our things while you go." Ms. Smyth offered, only looking up from her phone for a moment.

Wanda hesitated (it seemed she'd been doing that a lot lately) and then gave him her hand and hopped off the chair. She would rather be with Mr. Walters than Ms. Smyth.

"If they have a Starbucks, get me a grande cafe americano." Ms. Smyth called after them.

"And if they don't?" Mr. Walters asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Then I'll pass." Her voice never lost its bland respectable tone, but her nose crinkled a bit.

Mr. Walters nodded pleasantly and smiled down at Wanda. "Do they have Starbucks in Sokovia?"

"I do not know what that is." She mumbled without looking at him.

Mr. Walters nodded again, this time more to himself than anyone else and wondered how he was going to make this girl a part of his life. He had never been inclined to be a father and now he was suddenly the father of a girl who deserved so much more than he could offer. Could he ever make her genuinely smile again? He considered going straight back and getting her brother, but it was too late for that and he hardly had room in his life for her, let alone a young and troubled boy.

His thoughts were interrupted when he spotted a shop that seemed to be selling pastries. Actually, he smelled it before he saw it. Warm pastries sat on a tray behind glass in the front, brightly lit up by a long bulb to make them look even more enticing.

"Does this look good, Wanda?" He looked down at his young charge hoping to gain her approval.

She only nodded a bit. Normally, the thought of a warm pastry from a fancy shop would have made her jump for joy, but that joy left with her parents and the jumping could only be done with her brother. Food hadn't appealed to her since the bomb hit.

He ordered a strawberry danish for himself and when Wanda didn't tell him what she wanted, he ordered the same for her. It seemed that though Sokovians spoke their own language amongst themselves, they were happy to speak English to those that didn't know Sokovian.

Wanda accepted the pastry with a small 'thank you.'

"So when did you learn to speak English, Wanda?" The senator attempted to make casual conversation, though he was also genuinely curious.

"Our parents spoke both Sokovian and English to us when we grew up." The fact that she used the pronoun 'we' was not lost on Walters.

"Oh, that's interesting." He awkwardly took a bite to fill the silence that followed. They walked back to Ms. Smyth and sat down again. "No Starbucks," he told her when she looked at him.

"I assumed so. Do you like your danish, Wanda?" She looked at Wanda who was holding her pastry with both hands, but hadn't taken a bite yet.

"Yes," she responded without looking.

"You should eat," said Mr. Walters, "I'm not sure what the food will be like on the plane and this will be your last food from Sokovia for a while."

With that in mind, Wanda took a bite. The flavor reminded her of Friday evenings when her family would go out to market and she and Pietro were allowed to split a sweet of their choice. She wasn't sure if the memory made her sad or happy.


	7. Chapter Six

AN: Many apologies, once again, for how slow I am at updating this. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Six

Alex arrived at the female orphanage just as the car containing Ms. Smyth, Senator Walters, and Wanda pulled out. He saw Wanda in the back seat almost immediately and knew what was happening. With little hope of changing anything, he decided to go in and talk to Mrs. Whischult about what had happened to Wanda. She was a good friend of his wife and he often discussed the ins and outs of working at an orphanage with her.

He knocked politely on the door before turning the knob that he knew would be unlocked and entering. Mrs. Whischult had not gotten too far from the main entrance yet and she greeted him as he stepped in.

"Alex! It is always such a joy to see you. What brings you here?" She wrapped him in a warm hug.

"It is about a boy in the orphanage, Pietro."

Mrs. Whischult's face fell as she heard the name. "Ah, his sister was adopted."

"Do you believe that this is for the best?" Alex pulled his hat off his head in a sign of regret.

"I know it is for certain or I would have never let Wanda go. She needs a chance to move on. I hope the same will come for her brother one day."

"But have you considered the repercussions of separating the twins? They are the only family they have left and to pull them apart so completely seems cruel."

"If I can save only one, I will still know I have done good." Mrs. Whischult sounded quite firm now. "Wanda will have a chance to grow up and heal now in a way she never could have in Sokovia. I am greatly saddened at her loss of Pietro and Pietro's loss of her, but they will still be able to heal even if they are apart."

"But the boy was so devastated. He has tried to escape so many times to come find his sister."

"There is no turning back from what has been done now. I have done the best that I could for Wanda. That is my job. I can only hope that the same can be done for Pietro." Her harsh tone indicated and end to the conversation.

"Perhaps you are right." Alex donned his hat once more and headed for the door. "I will inform Pietro."

"Will you and your wife still be joining me for dinner on Wednesday?" Mrs. Whischult asked before he could turn the doorknob.

"Of course," Alex turned with a smile signifying that the weighty conversation they had just had did not affect their friendship. He stepped out the door and walked slowly to his car, trying to prepare a speech that would gently tell Pietro that he would likely never see his twin sister again. There was no right way to give that information to a ten-year-old boy.

As scanned his ID at the orphanage gate, he was given a dirty look by a guard on the other side, presumably the one who had to cover for him when he left in the middle of his shift.

"You have a lot of nerve just up and leaving me here to watch these brats for the night." He spit in distaste.

"I am sorry. It was for Pietro. He worried about his sister."

"Whatever," he stalked off ending any chance of further conversation.

Alex made his way past the doors and locks and security cameras to Pietro's room. It was silent inside and Alex wondered if the boy had fallen asleep. He gently knocked and the immediate answer of "Alex?" told him that Pietro had not slept at all since he left.

Alex unlocked the door and stepped in, closing the door behind him. "You might want to take a seat." He told the child while simultaneously sitting down in a chair that occupied the corner of the room.

Pietro gave him a wary look, but moved to sit down as well on his bed. He crossed his legs and faced Alex. "Where is my sister?"

"The news I have will not make you happy, Pietro, but it is not bad news." Alex spoke slowly, weighing each word before he said it.

"Is Wanda okay?"

"Wanda was adopted, Pietro. She is to fly to America today."

Pietro jumped up. "No! Who would do such a thing? Why would you let this happen?"

"It was too late when I got there Pietro. The man who adopted her is a good man. He will take care of her. Is that not what you want?"

"It is my job to take care of her!"

Alex remained sitting. He appeared very calm in spite of the turmoil inside him. "You know what is best for her Pietro. You also know that this is not something you can provide for her right now. I know you do not want to hear this, but this is what will be best for Wanda."

"No, it is not! Not without me!"

"I am going to leave you alone now Pietro. I have had some time to think about this and I have realized that it is best. You need some time to think as well and I need to continue my shift. Let me know if you need me." Without another word, he opened the door and walked away.

Pietro stood in silence for a while and then began to pace his small room. He thought about what he new about America: not much, but he doubted it could be good. He was even more determined now than ever to escape. He would find a way to get to America and find Wanda, no matter what it took.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Mr. Walters told Wanda to take the window seat. He sat in the middle and Ms. Smyth was on the edge. There were no first class flights into or out of Sokovia. They would be flying into France and continuing on a different airline from there. Ms. Smyth made a point of noting how cramped the seats were. Wanda was silent as the single flight attendant explained in English and Sokovian that the flight would not be too long and that they should be sure to buckle up and follow all other airplane rules.

The engine on the plane roared to life and Wanda placed her hand on the window and watched as the ground whizzed by and as it grew further and further away. She was leaving her only home and this fact was not lost on her. She was overwhelmed by sadness and if she were with her brother or her parents, she would have cried. But with this strange man and his unpleasant companion, she remained quiet and blinked back her tears.

When the ground was only a speck in the distance, she finally looked up and was surprised to see that the senator was looking right at her. "When will we come back?" She asked him.

"I don't know." Mr. Walters replied truthfully.

Wanda dropped her hand and looked down into her lap. With this question answered, she had nothing more to say.

The plane touched down in Paris and Ms. Smyth stopped at Starbucks to order a grande, nonfat flat white before they boarded their next flight which would land in Chicago. On this longer plane ride, Mr. Walters encouraged Wanda to eat the airline food that had been prepared for them and helped her with the system that would allow her to watch a movie of her choosing. She ignored the food and fell asleep watching _Lady and the Tramp_.

From Chicago they flew into D.C. Ms. Smyth had arranged for a taxi to meet them and for someone else to wait around to pick up their baggage. Wanda was cleared through customs at a surprisingly fast rate.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

"Your penthouse or back to the office?" Ms. Smyth asked.

This seemed like a silly question to Walters. There was a kid in the car with them, of course he couldn't take her to the office. "To the penthouse. We can get Wanda settled in and I need some sleep." He looked to see that Wanda was engrossed with the view outside. "This is your new home, Wanda." He told her. "Washington D.C., the capitol of America. This is where all the action happens. What do you think?"

"It is big." Wanda said. "And it is very busy and loud." She turned from the window to look at Walters. "How do you have time to make friends when everyone moves so quickly?"

"Um," the senator had prepared himself for the types of questions that would come from the public and the press, not for those of a ten-year-old girl. "I suppose you don't."

"That is sad." Wanda replied.

Ms. Smyth quickly changed the subject. "Wanda, how about you and I have a girls' day out tomorrow? We can go shopping and find you some new clothes and anything you want to have at home with Mr. Walters."

The thought sounded dreadful to Wanda, but she was so overwhelmed with the new situation that she could not find the words to voice this opinion. Pietro usually did most of the talking for the two of them. She looked at Ms. Smyth with this horror plastered on her face.

"Wonderful!" Said Ms. Smyth, "I'll pencil you in for 10:00." She pulled out her personal agenda and wrote the note down. The senator gave her an odd look, but he was just as unskilled at raising children as she was and he supposed that she had some motherly instinct that he could not understand.

The car pulled up to a large apartment building. The well-dressed man at the door would have signaled the luxury of the apartment to anyone in the city, but it meant nothing to Wanda.

"Good afternoon, Senator," the doorman greeted as he opened the door for them, "Ms. Smyth" he nodded as she stepped through after her boss. He didn't notice the small girl holding the senator's hand until she had already stepped through the door. "And who is this?"

"Ah, yes, Stephen, this is Wanda. She will be staying will be staying with me…that is she will be… or she is…" As a politician, it wasn't often that he was lost for words, but lately he seemed to be at loss for words quite a bit.

"Wanda was adopted by the senator this weekend. She will live with him as his daughter." Ms. Smyth stepped in.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Wanda." The doorman took Wanda's hand in his and dipped his head down. "And it is my pleasure to welcome you to Washington D.C."

Wanda smiled a little at the man's formality. His ease made her feel comfortable in spite of the fear that had been spreading through her.

Mr. Walters smiled at Stephen before leading Wanda toward the elevator. The doors were large and mirrored and Wanda was shocked by her own reflection. She thought that she and the Senator looked like a very strange pair, though she didn't have much time to reflect on this reflection before the doors opened and the three stepped into the elevator together.

"We're on the very top floor, Wanda." Senator Walters stepped forward and pressed the button labeled 11. The elevator rose up and opened into a small room with only one door opposite the elevator. The senator took out a key and opened the door to reveal a huge and beautiful living space.

"I thought you lived alone." Wanda said as she let go of the senator's hand, suddenly feeling very self-conscious for holding onto it in the first place.

"Well, I did live alone." The senator said. "Now I live with you."

Wanda made a strange face in response. "This space is too big for one man to live alone."

Walters was silent for a while. "Perhaps that is why I have you." It had always made sense to him that he should have such a large living space. He was a senator and he had plenty of money to afford to live in such a space. He had never thought before that he was living in luxury or that anyone might judge him for having such a large and expensive place all to himself. The speculations of a ten-year-old were shocking him.

Ms. Smyth noticed his slight loss of composure. "Perhaps you would like to show Wanda her room, Walters."

The senator snapped out of his momentary reverie. "Yes, of course. This way, Wanda." He led her up a small set up stairs and to the right where a door stood partially open. It had previously been one of three guest bedrooms that Walters owned, but he had asked his housekeeper to turn it into a room for a young girl as best she could before he returned. It was clear that she had hired some help as the smell of fresh paint came from the room and the senator was not surprised to see that the boring beige walls had been painted a shade of light purple. A purple bedspread with flowers had replaced the old blue spread. It was accompanied by matching pillow cases.

A white desk had been placed in the corner with white shelves above it. Wall decorations that were shaped like flowers accented some places in the wall and the doors of the walk-in-closet. A large mirror had been placed over the dresser which had been painted white to match the desk. The senator nodded in approval to himself. It seemed to him like a suitable environment for a young girl to live in.

Wanda took the room in. It was very different her two-room apartment in Sokovia where her room was the same room as the kitchen and she had shared a bed that was half the size of the bed in front of her with her brother. "This is different," was all she said.

"And of course you will have your own bathroom," the senator led her to a door off the side of the room which led to a full bathroom with two sinks, a shower and a fancy-looking tub.

"Of course," Wanda said to herself, embracing the oddness of his matter-of-factness.

…

She felt very alone in the large room that night. It was too big and there was too much empty space in the bed. The sounds of cars racing by outside was distracting. After tossing and turning for a while, she carried her blanket into the living room and laid down on the love-seat which was just long enough for her to stretch out on, but small enough that she couldn't feel all the empty space around her. The senator found her sleeping there the next morning as he headed toward the kitchen for his morning coffee.

He turned the coffee maker on, and then put a cup of milk in the microwave to heat for hot chocolate. Wanda woke up to the sound of the microwave beeping. She walked into the kitchen and watched Walters stir the hot chocolate packet into the milk. "I dreamed of my brother." She told him as she climbed into the tall chair that was placed in front of the long kitchen table.

"Hot chocolate?" He placed the drink before her. "What about your brother?"

"We were underneath the bed waiting for the bomb to go off and he promised that he would come for me. But I do not know if this is a memory or a dream. Sokovia seems very far away to me though it was my home yesterday."

The senator was still astounded by the way that the tiny girl before him was able to articulate her feelings and thoughts. "Only a dream, I fear," he said as guilt shot through him.

She didn't respond, but looked out the window and sipped the warm drink in her hands.

She dressed in the same dress that she had worn the day before and was ready to go when Ms. Smyth appeared at the door at exactly 10:00. The senator had just finished changing into his suit and was anxious to leave for work while Smyth took Wanda out shopping.

"Wanda, I see you're wearing the same old clothes as yesterday." Ms. Smyth turned up her nose in distaste and Wanda wondered how Walters could even bear to stand her.

"This is what I have."

"Of course, dear, and it's easily fixed. Let's get a move on. The senator is probably anxious to get to work."

Senator Walters stepped out of his room. "The senator does not mind waiting." He glared at Ms. Smyth. "Take care of her. I'll meet you two back at my office when you've finished." Knowing Ms. Smyth the way he did, he felt guilty for leaving Wanda with her.

…

Ms. Smyth talked a lot, never leaving room for a response. Wanda was okay with this because she didn't particularly want to talk to the woman. Ms. Smyth picked out a wardrobe of name-brand clothes for Wanda all in the latest fashions. Wanda tried everything on obediently and nodded agreeably even at the outfits she knew she would never wear. She did manage to sneak in a few simple dresses and skirts for herself when Ms. Smyth was on the phone and not paying attention.

Once the car that had been brought was completely full of things for Wanda-including not only clothes, but also a brand new laptop, tablet, and iPod- Ms. Smyth was satisfied that the shopping was done. They traveled to the senator's office and Wanda was introduced to an intern on the campaign who agreed to show her how to use her tablet while Ms. Smyth and Walters talked in the room next door. Wanda paid some attention to the intern, but most of her attention was given to the conversation between her caretaker and the woman who she had dubbed as the 'she-beast.'

Ms. Smyth seemed distressed by Wanda's accent. "It's cute at first, but it's much too strong. The press will never be able to understand her. We must find a speech tutor for her who will teach her to annunciate correctly."

"I'm really more concerned about enrolling her in school and introducing her to a child psychologist." Walters countered. "She needs to become acclimated to living here. This is such a huge transition especially after such a huge loss."

"Yes, of course," and Smyth was done with the conversation. Wanda released her attention from the room next door as the conversation moved into the campaign.

"America is such a strange place." She told the intern. "I'd much rather be home." And then she thought to herself _or perhaps I would be better off if I had followed my parents and brother._ Though she couldn't really wish herself dead as she thought of the senator's kind eyes and the strange way he looked at her.


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The press had a hay day when they found out about the Sokovian girl that was now living with the senator. The picture from the adoption website was featured on TV nationwide and America's hearts were warmed by the tragic story of her past and the trail of unfortunate events that had led her to her new home with the senator. Walters was viewed as the hero who saved her and just as Ms. Smyth had predicted, the senator's status in the presidential race rose quite significantly.

But none of this mattered to Wanda, who was now sitting in the penthouse apartment where a driver had dropped her off only an hour ago. Her first few days in school had been awkward and overwhelming. She had been dropped into the middle of classes and a group of people who she just couldn't seem to relate to or even want to relate to. Everyone there was the child of someone important and she was just the awkward foreign girl who never talked and sat in the back.

The housekeeper was there to keep an eye on her as she worked with a speech tutor who kept insisting she pronounce words differently, though Wanda insisted she was pronouncing them right. She couldn't even hear her own accent, which everyone except Walters had insisted was too strong. The tutor was a patient man, but he was growing tired of the young girl. He was more accustomed to working with older people who actually wanted to change the way they spoke.

"You're not listening to yourself, Wanda." He told her. "You want clarity from your words. Put more emphasis on your consonants and stretch out the vowels. Let's try again, slowly this time. Say: 'The ship sailed across the sea.'"

Wanda stared at him for a long time with a challenge in her eyes before slowly responding, "The ship sailed across the sea." Her accent was still there, and she didn't really bother to try to change how she pronounced any of the words. She was angry and tired of working with this man.

The scene the senator walked into was a standoff between the two. Wanda sat there in silence with her arms folded across the table. The tutor had both of his hands flat on the table and was staring down at Wanda. There was a crazed look in his eyes, though Wanda looked perfectly calm.

"Just say it, Wanda, 'The ship sailed across the sea.'" The tutor spoke with a forced calm. "Nice and clear, I know you can."

"Perhaps that's enough, Mr. Andrews." Walters touched the tutor on the shoulder and he jumped up, shocked to see that someone else had entered.

"Yes, perhaps. I will see you on Thursday, Wanda. Work on what we talked about." He stood up quickly.

"Actually, Mr. Andrews, I think that's enough forever." The senator sighed, wondering why he had let Ms. Smyth talk him into hiring this man in the first place. "Your services will no longer be required." He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed the man a wad of twenties. "That should more than cover what I owe you."

"Yes, very well," the tutor walked out, but not before looking back at Wanda whose triumphant face was enough to make him slam the door behind him.

Senator Walters waited until she was sure that the other man was gone before sitting down in his place at the table across from Wanda.

"Okay, Wanda, let's talk." He looked directly at her and she returned his gaze with equal intensity. "I'm going to be totally honest with you because God knows you deserve that from me."

Wanda nodded, prompting him to continue.

"I don't know anything at all about children, let alone raising one. I thought for a while that Ms. Smyth did, but she clearly knows even less than me. I should have known that her mind was rooted in campaigning and nowhere else." He paused and took a breath. "But I want you to be happy here and clearly everything I've done so far has not done anything to help that. I look at you and I don't know what to say or how to act, but I know that I want to make you smile more than I want to win this election and I have no idea why I feel that way."

Wanda gave him a puzzled look, but remained silent.

"I know, this seems ridiculous and this situation in ridiculous, but I want to make it better for you, but since I don't know anything about how to do that, you'll have to tell me. I need you to help me out."

Wanda looked down at her hands on the table and noted that they all of the nail polish that she had painted on in the orphanage had chipped off completely now. "I do not know how to make it better. Everything that made me happy is gone." She thought of her small family and was drawn into the memory of the picnic they had shared together on that hot day so long ago.

"Then perhaps we will have to find new things to make you happy. I know it will never be the same. I can't give you the family you deserve, but will you let me try."

The silence that passed seemed endless to Walters, but Wanda was lost in her memories and her thoughts and it didn't seem that long at all to her before she responded. "You are not so bad at understanding children." She said. "You sent away the tutor and told him to never come back."

Walters smiled a little at this. "It's a start I suppose."

"And you make me hot chocolate every morning even though I do not ask for it. You also started making the couch into a bed for me even before I try to sleep. You are the kindest person to me here. You are the only person who has not told me to forget my family and move on."

The senator nodded at this. "I don't want you to forget and it is too soon for you to move on."

Wanda gave him one of her small smiles and the two of them sat at the table in comfortable silence for a while.

"Wanda, have you ever tried pizza?" The senator asked, breaking the silence.

"No, what is it?"

The senator jumped up suddenly, then. "It's not something I can tell you, I'll have to show you." He ran up the stairs and into his bedroom where he changed out of his suit into a pair of jeans and a polo, an outfit so casual that he didn't remember the last time he had worn it. His life had been so full of suits and professional smiles for so long. He couldn't even remember the last time he had pizza. He ran back down the stairs and Wanda seemed surprised to see that he had changed. "Let's go!"

Wanda caught his enthusiasm and they ran out the door and down the stairs together, ignoring the elevator.

"We need a cab, Stephen," the senator announced as they burst out the door. "Wanda has never had pizza before."

Stephen smiled knowingly and walked out with them to hail a cab. When the senator wasn't watching, he kneeled down to speak to Wanda. "I haven't seen him this excited in a long time. You have some explaining to do, young lady."

"Or maybe he is just crazy," Wanda whispered back to him conspiratorially.

…

Walters decided that they should start off simply and ordered a large cheese pizza for the two of them to share. Wanda claimed it was the best thing she had tasted since she arrived in America.

"And we'll bring the leftovers home and put them in the refrigerator and then you can try it cold. It's a whole different way to experience pizza," the senator told her excitedly.

Wanda was suddenly quiet when he said this. The word 'home' struck her. Was this her home now? Was the too-large apartment she shared with the senator a place that she could really call home in the same way she had called the two-room apartment in Sokovia home? And if this new place was to be her home, what did that make the senator?

"What do I call you?" She asked.

The senator was quiet, weighing his responses before he made one. "What did you call your father in Sokovia?" He asked her.

"In Sokovia, we call our fathers 'Papa'. I called my father 'Papa.'"

"Well, I am not your Papa," Walters admitted. "You and I both know that I can never replace your real father. But here in America, we call our fathers 'Dad.' Do you think I could be your 'Dad?'

Wanda was silent for a moment, wondering if she could let this man into her life in a way she had not wanted to let anyone in since her parents died. This man who told her that her brother was dead though she had seen him and spoken to him even after the first bomb went off though this memory now seemed distant and less-clear than it had in Sokovia. The senator was looking at her, waiting for an answer. No, she knew he could never be her Papa, but looking into his gentle eyes, she thought that maybe, just maybe, this was a man that she could trust.

"Yes, you could be my Dad." She gave him a small smile and it was the first smile that reached her eyes since the death of her parents.


	10. Chapter Nine

**AN: Thank you to the anonymous guest who posted a review today that reminded me to get back to work. I have no excuse for the delayed-ness of this chapter other than procrastination. Sorry. Please enjoy!**

Chapter Nine

 **Seven Years Later**

Wanda knew she was supposed to have a bodyguard with her at all times, but she had never been a fan of any of the large men that Dad had hired to keep an eye on her. She had slipped out of the back doors of the high school where she learned with all of the other children of the important figures that ran America and ran through the streets of D.C. toward the White House where she lived with President Walters.

The president would be mad that she had left the guards behind yet again, but she had grown quite adept to dodging his wrath in the seven years she had lived as his daughter.

When she reached the gates, she flashed a smile at the security guards and the one on the left eyed her suspiciously. "If I'm correct, Wanda, you're supposed to have guards with you and you were supposed to come home from school in a protected car."

"You're, correct, Jim, but since when have I done what I'm supposed to?" Her accent was still as present as the day she had arrived in the US.

Jim frowned, but opened the gate for her. "You need to be more cautious. Plenty of people would love to take a snap at you to get to Walters."

Wanda frowned back and nodded. He was right, she knew, but it didn't stop her from disliking her hired guards. "I take a different route home every day and the guards are welcome to join me if they can keep up with me." She stepped through the gates and made her way up the long driveway toward the White House.

Stephen stood at the door and held it open for her with a smile dutifully. She had insisted that he come with them when Walters became president six years ago and he had insisted that he wanted to remain a doorman. "Wanda, running home again, are you?"

"I couldn't stand the guards and their serious faces a moment longer, Stephen."

"You're father will be unhappy. He worries about you."

"I know. I'm going to see him now."

She dropped her backpack in her room before making her way to the Oval Office where President Walters spent so much of his time now. "Hi Dad," she greeted him and walked in as soon as she saw that he was neither meeting with anyone or on the phone. Back when she had only begun dodging the guards and running home, she avoided seeing him right away, but he always worried when he got a call from the guards saying that she was missing. She had refused to stop dodging the guards, but agreed to come see him and prove she was safe right away whenever she did.

"Wanda, what am I going to do with you?" He asked as he stood up to hug her. She was still much smaller than him, but she had grown a lot since he had first brought her to America with him. She was no longer the tiny child she had been. "You cause me to worry so much."

"Sorry, I know I shouldn't." She suddenly regretted her rash decision as she always did when she saw her dad's face after she left the guard behind. "I always just happens before I have time to think."

The president sighed. "Can you at least call me next time?"

"If I call you, you'll warn the guards just like you always do."

"Maybe you shouldn't be avoiding them when they're there to keep you safe. I swear I'm going to have to have them start picking you up from your last class and walking to your locker with you before taking you home."

"And I would resent you for not allowing me to be a rebellious teenager." She responded quickly. This argument was not new to either one of them.

"Which would make you no different from any other teenager in the country."

"Except every other teenager isn't the adopted daughter of the president. Don't worry so much, Dad. I can take care of myself."

He was young, but his hair had grown gray from the stress of running the country and seeing the look of concern in his eyes, Wanda backed down.

"Okay, I'll stay with the guard, I promise. I've got to go, I have a lot of homework to do." She headed for the door.

"I'll see you at dinner, Wanda." He called after her. _And I know you'll break your promise in about a week or two._

Wanda spun around at the voice she heard. I was definitely the president's, but it didn't seem to have come from his mouth, it had sounded in her head. "What did you say?"

"I said 'I'll see you at dinner.'" Walters looked taken aback.

"No, after that, what did you say after that?"

"Nothing," Walters frowned at her, concerned.

"Oh, I guess I'm hearing things." Wanda paused awkwardly. "I'll see you at dinner." She hurried out of the room, trying to dismiss what she had thought she heard.

…

They had added a TV in the Sokovian boys orphanage and every night, at exactly 8:00, it was tuned into the world news broadcast. Pietro had expected the other boys to object to this, but when he told them he was watching for his sister, the remote was handed to him with no objection.

"If we had a family to watch for," Max, one of the older boys said, "we would want to watch, too." Max had lived in the same apartment building as the twins. He had been out buying bread for their dinner when the building had been hit. He lost both of his parents and his baby brother. He and Pietro had become good friends during their time together.

He never expected to see anything, she was just one girl of the millions that lived in America, now, but it was his only link to the strange country she had been sent to and he was willing to sit through many pointless news stories for the slight chance that his sister might be a part of one.

The first time he saw her, he had been fifteen and the president of the United States was being sworn into office for the second time, having won the presidential race that put him into office for another term. Standing next to him was a teenage girl in a beautiful dress. One of the boys sitting next to him nudged him questioningly. Pietro sat in silence. The president spoke, but the words washed over him with no meaning, his eyes were fixed to the girl next to him who he had feared he would never see again.

As quickly as this news had come up on the screen, it changed to focus on another country where a war was raging. "Wanda," Pietro had whispered.

He had never stopped trying to escape, not really, though his attempts were less frequent than they had been before. He had been running out of ideas for a long time and the guards knew all of his maneuvers by heart. They were always ready for him.

…

At 17, he was only one year from leaving the orphanage as an adult. No one had even come close to adopting him. He had promised Max, who had left only a month ago that he would find him when he was released back into the real world and they would find a way to America together. He rarely saw Wanda on the news, but he still watched for the chance that she might show up and also to keep an eye on the man who was acting as her father. When he did see her, she seemed happy. Part of him wondered if she ever thought of him or why she never tried to contact him. She was the adopted daughter of the president, surely she had enough influence to send him a letter. He stayed up late many nights wondering and worrying about why she hadn't.

It was on one of these late nights that he was pacing around his small room, deep in thought when suddenly, he felt himself jerk forward. Though he had felt that he was only walking slowly, he ran into the wall suddenly. And just as soon as he hit that wall, he ran into another wall. It took him a few tries before he was able to crash down onto his bed.

He checked the clock to find that it was 3AM and decided that he was overtired and maybe a little bit crazy. Because it seemed to him, that he had been traveling super fast and that was definitely impossible.

…

It took Walters longer to finish up his project than he had thought and he and Wanda ate dinner late than evening. Their argument from earlier had been forgotten and they chatted amiably about the affairs of the country and the latest chemistry test that Wanda would have to take in a few days.

"I'm afraid I'm no good at chemistry, otherwise, I would help you study. I seem to have forgotten everything I learned in college except for politics."

"It's no big deal. I'm not that worried about it, anyway." Though what did worry Wanda was the strange snippets of words that she kept hearing in Walters' voice when he wasn't talking out loud.

"Are you okay? You're eyes look a little strange." He noted, watching her carefully. She had been acting strange the whole meal and he swore he must be going crazy because he kept thinking that he saw his daughter's eyes flashing red.

"I'm fine, Dad. It's been a long day and I think I might be catching a cold or something. I'm gonna go to bed." Wanda pushed away from the table and headed for the door, mentally begging the voice in her head to be quiet.

"Well let me know if you need medicine or anything." He called after her.

Wanda was overwhelmed suddenly with a strong sense of worry that was not her own, but it passed as she moved further from her dad. _I must be going crazy,_ she thought.


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

 **AN: Wow, I really wasn't expecting to have to do so much research on the layout of the White House for this...**

Pietro slept restlessly. His sister appeared in his dream, though she looked older than the girl he had seen on television years ago. She had aged along with him, though Pietro did not know why he would see her this way in his sleep rather than in the way he had seen her before, as she was as a young girl or as she was when he saw her on television.

The Wanda in his dream was far away and had eyes that glowed red and wisps of a red glow flowing around her. She looked confused and scared. "Pietro?" she called across the abyss that seemed to separate them.

"It is me, sister." He responded.

"You are not dead?" She seemed surprised.

"Should I be?" Pietro asked confused.

"Yes, long ago, when the bomb went off. You left me alone." The surprise that had been in her eyes turned to great sadness.

He began to run toward her, but the abyss between them never seemed to get any smaller, though he felt he was going very fast.

"I still miss you, Pietro," she called as he ran. "I thought the pain would go away and the hole in my chest would close, but it remains the same as the day you and mother and father died."

"I will come find you, sister. I promise I will find you!" But the Wanda in his dream began to fade and he felt himself waking up, though he tried to drag himself back into sleep.

When he had fully woken, he sat up abruptly. The events of the past night seemed like a very strange and yet very realistic dream. He cautiously set his foot down on the ground and took a few steps. He moved at a normal speed. He wasn't sure if this was a relief or a disappointment.

He got dressed and waited for the lock on his bedroom door to time out for the morning. Once he heard the telltale click that meant he was free (or as free as a boy trapped in the Sokovian orphanage could be), he pulled open the door and made his way down to the dining hall.

…

Wanda had a very strange dream that night. She was used to dreams of her brother and her family, but when she saw Pietro in her dreams before, he had always been young, trapped in the boy that had stopped aging even though she continued.

The boy in this dream was much older, he must've been the same age as her. Even though he had the stubble of a beard on his chin and well-developed muscles in his arms, she still recognized the young man as Pietro.

She saw him from such a far distance and when she spoke to him, she had to call out.

When she woke with a start as the dream faded away, she turned to check her alarm clock to find that she still had fifteen minutes until she had to wake up, though she knew sleep would be impossible now.

She got up out of bed and began to change into her school uniform. Her thoughts were distracted with the dream of last night. She tried to think back to her childhood and the explosion in their apartment. It had been so long ago and the thoughts had been buried deep down where they wouldn't hurt as much. It was hard for her to say she remembered exactly what had happened.

For the first time in a long time, she wondered if her brother was really dead.

She quickly ran a brush through her hair and picked up her backpack from where she had left it by her desk. She had promised to eat breakfast with her dad that morning since he was heading out of state that afternoon.

Walters was already sitting at the dining room table drinking a cup of coffee. When he saw Wanda walking in, he pulled one of the trays on the table toward him and poured hot chocolate from a carafe into a mug. As Wanda sat down, he slid the mug over to her. "Are you feeling better this morning?" He asked her as she took her first sip.

"Yeah, last night was weird, but I'm feeling much better now." She smiled at him. It was true, despite her strange dream, she wasn't hearing things anymore and she dismissed the events of last evening as a trick of the mind and not enough sleep. "I did have an interesting dream last night, though."

"Oh yeah, what about?" A member of the kitchen staff, Sarah, walked in and set down a plate full of pancakes, half of them chocolate chip and half banana, and a container of syrup.

"Thanks, Sarah," Wanda said before their server had a chance to leave. Sarah nodded, smiled, and stepped out. "It was about my brother, actually." She answered.

The president, who had been reaching for the banana pancakes, froze for a moment before continuing in motion. "Pietro?"

"Yes, but he was the same age as me, not a kid like I usually see him when I dream of him." Wanda usually didn't talk much about her real family with her dad because she could tell it made him uncomfortable, but her dream had been so potent, she felt the need to mention it to someone.

"Interesting," a look of concern passed quickly over his face before he was able to hide it from Wanda.

"Don't worry about it. It was just a strange dream and I wanted to tell someone." She picked up two chocolate chip pancakes for herself and hoped for the conversation to drop, now regretting having brought it up.

"Okay," and Walters did let it drop, mostly because he didn't know what to say. He never knew what to say when Wanda spoke of her brother. It reminded him that he was not as good of a man as he often led himself to believe. It reminded him that the most important relationship with the most important person in his life was based on a huge lie.

They carried on small conversation for the rest of the meal and stood up to leave at the same time. Walters had resolved to walk Wanda to the armored car with her guards to ensure her safety and eradicate the risk of her running from the guards.

As she hugged him goodbye, he suddenly remembered an important bit of information that he had forgotten to share. "Oh, I forgot to mention to you that Ms. Smyth said she would be stopping by today. She'll probably be here when you get home from school."

Wanda froze and pulled away. Despite her best efforts to be rid of Ms. Smyth, the woman had become a member of Walter's trusted cabinet and often liked to make frequent inconvenient visits for seemingly no other reason than to assure Wanda of her power. Wanda's thinly veiled hatred for her was growing less and less veiled every time they saw each other.

"Does she have to come while you're away? I don't exactly think that we're friends."

Walters had noticed the budding emotions between his adoptive daughter and his cabinet member, but always tried to ignore it, hoping that one day they would resolve their differences and trust one another the same way her trusted both of them. "She wanted to see just you. She senses that things are tense and wants to have a little one-on-one girl time. I thought it would be a good idea."

Wanda scowled inwardly at this idea. "Okay, Dad, I'll try to be civil. Have fun on your trip. I'll miss you."

Walters drew her back into the hug and squeezed her tightly. "I'll miss you, too. Be good and stay with your guards."

"Okay, I will." Wanda drew away and headed for the car. The president stood in the driveway and waved goodbye as the vehicle drove away.

…

Pietro couldn't shake the dream from his head, though he told no one about it. He longed to be free and find his sister more than ever now. He went through the motions of completing the day: attending classes, and eating lunch until is came time for his PE class.

PE class was a favorite of the boys in the orphanage. It took place every other day and was not so much a class, as a chance to run outside in the enclosed grounds and loosen their muscles, tight from being stuck in the same place for so long.

The boys had grouped off into their respective age groups and Pietro stood with the older boys as they planned the details of a race that would happen between them. They often raced, usually once a week. Pietro was fast, but he never won. He took third place on most days and second or fourth when he or one of the other boys was tired. Victor, a tall slender boy with a muscular frame always took first and prided himself in this fact. He was the one who organized the weekly races. Though they knew he would win, most of the other boys joined in for the chance to run and the opportunity to show off.

As usual, the group of boys lined up against the wall of the orphanage. They would run to the gate and around the perimeter until they reached the orphanage once more. The distance was only about half a kilometer. Pietro crouched down in position with one foot back against the wall and the other out in front of him.

One of the younger boys, Leo, had come over to watch the race and call the winners at the finish line. He counted down from three and the boys were off. This was a sprint, so Pietro didn't bother pacing himself. He launched off the wall and ahead of every boy except Victor who had already gotten a few feet ahead.

But Pietro felt different today. Though he was running at his usual speed, he felt a push to go faster. He felt his body telling him to go faster, that he could go faster. So even though he felt like he was going his fastest, Pietro pushed himself. He felt something snap in him similar to the way he had felt the night before. Though it was less disorienting this time. The world seemed to slow down around him. He saw Victor running ahead, but he seemed to be going incredibly slow. Pietro passed him.

It seemed as though no time had passed, but Pietro found himself back at the wall of the orphanage. He crashed into it and only then was he able to see the world around him as it had been before. He turned from the wall to see Victor. He was only about 3/4 of the way done and he had a look of shock on his face as his eyes met his competitor's.

As Victor came to the finish, his face changed from a look of shock to a scowl. "You cheated, Pietro." He said.

"I did not, Victor." Pietro moved himself into a more defensive position.

The other boys finished the race and joined Pietro and Victor against the wall. Anton, a small and fiery boy of sixteen, joined in the conversation as soon as he arrived. "You know we do not cheat here, Victor. Pietro beat you and you are just jealous that his speed has finally outdone yours."

"He finished long before me. There is no possible way he ran that fast. It is not natural!" Victor's voice rose in anger. "He must have made a shortcut to reach the finish before us."

The younger boy who had called the race, Leo, spoke quietly from the side. "I watched. Pietro ran fast. He did not cheat."

"That is all then, Victor," Anton said, "Pietro ran faster than you and you lost. The race is over and it is almost time to go inside. You must move on."

Victor stood still in silence for a moment and then moved over to Pietro. With a fluid movement, his hand moved up to slap the other boy in the face. Pietro saw the boy move over in normal speed, but as his hand raised up, everything seemed to move into slow motion. Pietro dodged the attack and Victor ended up hitting his open palm against the wall Pietro had been standing against. Motion returned to normal for Pietro as he watched the boy cringe in pain and hold his sore hand. "What the hell, Pietro!" He yelled.

"It is over, Victor." And as Pietro spoke, the bell that called the boys back inside rang and Pietro and the other boys left Victor behind to walk back to their rooms.

The other orphans ran beside Pietro, congratulating him on his victory against the supposed fastest boy in the orphanage, but Pietro let their praises wash over him. He was lost in thought, contemplating the new speed that his body seemed to be working at. He wondered if he might not have to wait to be 18 to leave the orphanage after all.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

 **AN: College has started again and the last few weeks have been super busy. As usual, I apologize for how long it takes me to update. I promise I have the entire plot planned out, it's just a matter of finding the time to write...Enjoy!**

Wanda did as she promised and rode home with her guards after school. As the car pulled into the long driveway, she immediately noticed her least favorite car was already parked there. As she got out of the car, she was greeted by the fake smile plastered on Ms. Smyth's face as she walked out of the main door with her arms wide open. "Wanda, dear, I'm so very glad you came home the proper way today."

 _She must have been waiting at the door to have a reaction time that ridiculously fast,_ Wanda thought. She didn't bother smiling back, or responding to Smyth's wide open arms. She had long ago abandoned any pretense of enjoying the other woman's company. "I came home in the way I promised Walters I would, yes." Smyth didn't like it when Wanda called Walters dad, she thought it was too personal of a term for the man who adopted her and was not her real father.

"So good to see you're finally listening to him for a change." Smyth dropped her arms, but kept her smile.

"You know I always listen to him, Ms. Smyth." Wanda responded curtly.

"That's not what he told me, sweetheart. He said you'd been running home again and explicitly told me to keep an eye on you since I would be here and he would not."

"Is that why you were watching like a hawk at the door?"

"Hmm, you're attitude has not dissipated, I see. I've spoken to Walters about it on many occasions. You know he values my opinion."

"And you know I will never understand why he does." Wanda muttered just under her breath. "Tell me why you are really here, Smyth. Clearly you are not concerned about my safety." She spoke out loud.

"Oh, but I am, darling. You are the leader of our nation's charity project."

Wanda growled when she said this. It had only been recently that Smyth had started referring to her as a 'charity project,' though she never dared use this term in front of Walters. "Well then, besides my safety, what are you here for?"

"Ah yes, I had some documents to drop off for your father to sign when he arrives back. Please stress to him that they are of the utmost importance." Her smile still had not yet faltered.

"May I ask what they are for?" Wanda crossed her arms. She was still standing in the driveway. Her security stood behind her and, for once, she was glad of their imposing presence. Smyth only had one body guard behind her.

"Nothing you would be concerned about, sweetheart, just official grown-up politics stuff." She moved forward and ruffled Wanda's hair. Wanda was peeved that her security didn't bother to stop the repulsive woman from doing this.

 _The brat, I should have had her thrown off the plane before we even landed in America._

Wanda started. The thought came into her head in Smyth's voice so suddenly and so violently, she wasn't sure where it came from. Smyth hadn't opened her mouth. "Excuse me?"

"I said nothing to worry about, sweetheart. You go inside now and be good. I'll have my eye on you until your father gets home." It sounded more like a threat than a gentle comment.

Wanda only nodded. She couldn't muster the brain power it would take to make one of her usual snide remarks. She whirled immediately to face her security as soon as the woman was out of hearing range. "Did you not hear that?" She asked them.

One of the guards cocked his head in confusion. Wanda knew him only by his last name, O'Connor. He had been with her since Walters was appointed the presidency and in the time she had known him, she had grown quite fond of him. "We heard everything she said, Miss Maximoff. Should we have reason for concern?"

 _She's been acting so strange lately. I hope she's alright._

This thought came in the voice of another guard, one that was standing to the left of Wanda, but had not appeared to have opened his mouth. Wanda was silent for a moment, trying to work out what was going on in her head. Was she hearing other people's thoughts? Was she going crazy and hearing voices in her head? But why would the voices be voices she knew, the voices of people around her.

"Miss Maximoff?" O'Connor questioned when she hadn't responded for a while. She looked frightened, though he couldn't figure out why.

Wanda let her guard down and sighed inwardly. She wasn't getting enough sleep. She needed to calm down. "Just please make sure she doesn't touch me again. I do not like it when she touches me."

"We can assure you, she will not touch you again if that is your wish. Please come inside now, Miss Maximoff." O'Connor held out his hand in a friendly gesture, something he had done for her since she was a child.

Wanda took his hand and allowed him to lead her inside. "Thank you, O'Connor."

O'Connor smiled briefly in return. He had been trained to never grow too attached to the people whom he guarded, but he made an exception for Wanda, despite the sheer amount of times she had run off and avoided his guard. In contrast, he had never been fond of Smyth. She was generally rude and unpleasant and never seemed to attach herself to anyone that she couldn't leech power off of. He often wondered why Walters failed to notice this. If Wanda asked that the woman never touched her again, he would be sure that her wish was fulfilled.

They walked inside together and Wanda excused herself to her room. She ran upstairs and made it to her window in time to see Ms. Smyth's car pull out of the long driveway and through the gates.

…

Alex wasn't on duty until the night, but he arrived early in the evening with a boy holding onto his hand. His son, Pietro, named after his favorite boy in the orphanage, liked to come to work with him sometimes and play with the other boys. His favorite thing to do was visit his namesake.

Pietro was in his room with the door open. A book was open on his lap and he was trying to concentrate on it, but his mind kept drifting far away: to the race that day, to the strange buzzing feeling that was welling up inside his body, and to his sister, far away in America. He was so engrossed in these thoughts that he wouldn't have noticed the knock on the backside of his door if it hadn't been accompanied by an overly enthusiastic 7-year-old who ran into the room without waiting for invitation.

"Pietro!" The little boy jumped up on the bed as the grown Pietro reacted fast enough (perhaps much more than fast enough) to move the book off his lap and catch the boy midair.

"How is it going little man?" Pietro stood up and swung little Pietro around before setting him gently on the ground.

"I have not seen you since this many." The boy responded, holding up nine of his fingers.

Pietro thought for a moment and put down two of the boys fingers. "And what is new and exciting since that many?"

"Papa bought a new car and ket me ride in the front seat. We had a picnic with Mama."

"That sounds like a lot of fun."

"It was fun, you should come next time." Big Pietro looked at Alex as his son said this and the impossibility of this suggestion passed between them silently.

"It was a used car, actually," Alex clarified, "but it is new to us."

"Congratulations, anyway, Alex, cars are hard to come by these days, or so I have heard."

"It was hard," little Pietro confirmed. "Papa had to work extra. You saw him more than me."

Pietro knew how the boy exaggerated, but her doubted this statement was untrue. Alex had been picking up extra shifts at the orphanage every chance he got and he often remarked that he missed the time he would have spent with his family if he hadn't been struggling to make ends meet.

"Piet, go play with the other boys," Alex addressed his son, "I think Leo has a new toy he would like to share with you. He is in his room now."

"Okay," and with that, little Pietro ran out of the room to find Leo.

The remaining Pietro looked at Alex with confusion, he very rarely sent his son away unless there was something he wanted to talk about in private. "What is it, Alex?"

Alex sat down on the bed next to Pietro and sighed. "Pietro, you know I would not buy a car if I did not plan on using it for something much more than driving out for picnics."

"I know that, Alex."

"Pietro, I want to move my family. I want to leave this country and find a job where I can work less hours and spend more time with my family. You and I both know that Sokovia is a failing country. I cannot provide for my family here."

Pietro opened his mouth to speak, but Alex held up his hand to finish. "I know you are wondering why I am telling you this. It is because you are the only tie, the only person I have that might keep me in Sokovia. You are nearing 18 Pietro. You know I cannot afford to adopt you, but when you are 18, you will be a man and you can leave here on your own. I am asking you to come with me and my family. You can drive with us and we can find work together. You can live with my family. I have already spoken with my wife on the matter and she says she would have you with us like her own son."

"Thank you, Alex, you are very generous and you have always taken care of me." Pietro paused for a moment to let his gratitude sink in. "But you know I cannot leave my sister alone."

"Your sister is not alone, Pietro. She is doing just fine with the rich people of America. She is under the wing of one of the most powerful men in the world. She does not contact you. She does not need you. You need to let her go so you can live your own life as she has decided to live hers." Alex stood up. He was frustrated. He was always frustrated when Pietro brought up Wanda. Since she had been seen on the news with the president, he was convinced that Wanda had left Pietro to rot in the orphanage and moved on with her own life without him.

"I made a promise to her and I cannot break it. I cannot believe that she has left me alone by her own intention. She is the only family I have left and I am hers."

"Do you not understand, Pietro?! She has a family now. She has the president of the United States. She does not need you. And I am offering you a family of your own. You can start new when you turn 18 instead of chasing the dreams of a boy who faced a terrible tragedy."

"I know how you feel, Alex. And If Wanda were not out there, I would accept you as my family and I would move on with you. But I lost half of my family on the day the bomb hit our apartment and I cannot loose what I have left, even if she has decided that she does not need me anymore."

"Okay, Pietro," Alex sat down on the bed once more. "I knew this is what you would say, but I had to make sure you could have no sense knocked into you. If I am not waiting for your coming of age, then I cannot wait any longer. I am taking my family out of the country this weekend. I knew I came today to tell you that I would wait or to say goodbye."

"Alex, you will always be important to me. I cannot tell you how much you have given me hope while I was here. I will be sorry to see you go, but I will be grateful that you are being given a new chance to have a better life for you and your family." Pietro extended his hand to give the man a handshake.

Alex pushed his hand aside and reached over to hug the young man. "There is a reason I named my son after you, Pietro. I am lucky to have known you. You are the most admirable young man I have ever encountered."

Pietro hugged the older man back. Not too long later, Little Pietro ran back into the room and Pietro said goodbye to him as well ("I will miss you little man, do good by my name").

As soon as Alex and little Pietro left, Pietro spent a moment contemplating how he would miss them in his life, but only a moment. Immediately after, he began to plan how he might be able to easier escape without Alex as a guard and with no fear of ruining the man's career should an orphan leave the orphanage on his watch. A new plot was taking shape in his mind and it had nothing to do with waiting to turn 18.


End file.
